


A Friend In Need

by Francchi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blind CPR kink if that's a thing these days, Blood Loss, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Mild stupidity, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 15:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7321057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Francchi/pseuds/Francchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Reaper finds himself severely wounded after confronting some Overwatch agents, he receives help from the least expected source. But of course, he has to keep his face even if it requires the most ridiculous of measures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend In Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I wrote in years so I'm sorry for any crucial writer's mistakes. English is also not my native language so tense usage might seem a bit weird at times.

Pain. Numb pain just below his ribs. _Ugh._

High pitched, neverending, headache-inducing ringing in his ears.

And this blurry vision, full of white spots of light.

Well, he sure did feel like shit.

He's been shot. It would appear that the bullet went right through his body. Or, actually, bullets, because there was definitely more than one hole in his chest.

Gotta admit, this Brady bunch of corrupt fools sure have been getting better with their aiming these days.

He was only meant to stop them from getting that stupid payload thing across, yet they managed to get him like that. Not bad.

But not nearly good enough to put him down, oh no - in just a moment, he was going to absorb some of the nearby souls - or whatever these orbs truly were, Reaper himself wasn't sure - and get shipshape. Right back up and end this pointless play.

Yes. Right... back up.

Having teleported away from the battlefield, he somehow managed to stumble into some empty store, likely abandoned by its owners as soon as they saw "the dangerous and uncontrollable gang of international criminals" Overwatch was known as these days.

He just needed a short moment to recollect himself...

...he thought, just as he collapsed onto his knees.

"Ah, fuck... _Might_ be just a little worse than I thought."

He managed to drag himself towards a secluded corner and sit up there, breathing heavily. He put a hand over the wounded area, but not without a flinch. His glove quickly got covered in blood that was soaking through his coat and "bulletproof" vest.

He'd been through worse. He truly had. This was nothing. After all, he's known as the Reaper now. Death himself. This. Was. Nothing.

He just needed to...

Damn it.

Unable to keep it up anymore, his body slid down the wall and onto the floor. The pain was getting worse. Excruciating. Gabriel Reyes gritted his teeth, letting out an angry hiss. He really needed to get over himself and find some way to patch himself up. ASAP.

But the spots of white light were becoming bigger and bigger...

He passed out.

Reaper had no idea how long he's been lying there, but the first thing he heard after he came to - more or less -  was the sound of steps and door being shut.

Steps were getting louder. Someone was approaching him.

Reaper had no allies on this mission. Not like he had many in general. Whoever it was, it wasn't a friend and definitely wasn't going to call an ambulance on him.

He didn't open his eyes, merely listening, wondering what would happen next. He didn't have the strength to fight back either way.

His chest still hurt like an absolute bitch, making it hard for him to breathe. The mask wasn't helping either.

The room became completely quiet. The person stopped moving. Hesitating, perhaps?

And then he heard a shuffle, a clicking sound, and a moment later a wave of pleasant, soothing warmth spread through his entire body. Despite having his eyes closed and mask still on, he could feel bright light surrounding him. His pain seemed to have miraculously faded away, although not fully, and he still had troubles breathing. He also still felt extremely lightheaded.

But this warmth, this light, they were... familiar.

He heard more shuffling noises - the person sat down on the floor, at least that's what he could imagine. And then they let out a sigh and spoke with a coarse, muffled voice:

"Eh, I knew it. Reckless as always. What a damn idiot."

This voice was also familiar.

Well. Shit. Great. Just great. Perfect. _Bueno_. He's done it. He died. **_Again._** He died yet again and he's being haunted by the ghosts of his past. Or hey! Even worse! He's finally gone to Hell and hearing Jack Morrison's voice was going to be his eternal punishment. Simply fantastic.

And even though he's lost all faith at that point, Reaper kept his eyes tightly shut, pretending to be as dead as he wished he was at that moment.

His body went all tense and he had to put some real effort into not moving a muscle as the great and mighty boyscout, Soldier 76 himself gently cupped his face and removed his mask.

Had to admit, it was a bit easier to breathe without a heavy, thick owl skull obstruction on his face. Said face, however, wasn't a particularly pretty sight to look at after all that had happened. He wouldn't know, of course, but he could picture Soldier grimacing upon viewing it. Anyone would.

His unexpected visitor's hand travelled down to his chest, inspecting his wounds. And as soon as it did, all of the biotic field relief went to fuck itself. Reaper clenched his fists, using all of his willpower not to punch the other's face, which, in hindsight, would've probably been a better remedy.

_Honestly though, what the hell is he doing here? He was one of the morons who shot me in the first place._

Soldier murmured something inaudible and, much to Reaper's horror, proceeded to move away his coat and vest. Luckily enough, he stopped at the hoodie and from the sound of it, started taking out medical supplies. At that moment Reaper decided he would continue to avoid showing any signs of life until his "savior" was gone, because the entirety of this situation was just too damn ridiculous and, well, sort of embarrassing.

He picked Gabriel's torso up with great subtlety, wrapping the bandage around it, which managed to stop the blood from seeping all over.

_Okay. Enough. You patched me up. Your stupid scout conscience is clean. No one's dying. You can leave now. Go ahead._

But life wasn't going to be so good for Gabriel Reyes. He's been lying there for quite a while and now that his attention has been shifted from the bleeding hell on his sternum he realized he was cold.

Like, really damn cold for someone who's wearing four layers of clothes and is already a creature of the night hung between life and death.

He could barely feel his hands, let alone fingers. And as slow and quiet as he was trying to keep his breathing, it still felt like there was a giant boulder crushing him. He doubted the bandages had much to do with it.

Fuck. This was getting out of hand. This was getting _bad_. But what was he supposed to do? Sit up and _beg_ Jack to stay? Never.

But Soldier wasn't moving from his spot to begin with. He was watching over him, and in whatever way Reaper's body displayed all that was going through his head, he noticed it.

"...Nah, this isn't looking good. What have you gotten yourself into this time, Reyes?" The man let the question echo throughout the silent, empty store room. He grabbed the other's wrist, checking the pulse.

_How do you even have the nerve you saltine cracker ass--_

Reaper's murderous trail of thoughts was suddenly disrupted by another mechanical click and a warm sensation on top of his chest, but this time it certainly wasn't the biotic field.

_Oh God, what is it no--_

He could not resist anymore and opened his eyes just a tiny bit to have a peek at what was going on. Upon getting a view he immediately closed them again, regretting everything about his life choices.

It seemed that Jack has removed his own mask and laid his head on top of Reaper's chest, checking in on the heartbeat. Fortunately, he was facing the other way.

Well, it's not like he would hear much anyway, it nearly wasn't there in the first place, due to his current... unusual state of being and excessive blood loss probably wasn't making it any better. Hopefully the bullet holes would stop him from trying to resuscitate him.

But Jesus Christ, if it has been decades since he's last been so close to this bastard. And it was making him feel really, _really_ weird for some reason. Almost as if every inch of his body Jack touched immediately became electrified.

Jack leaned in even closer, one hand still squeezing Gabriel's wrist, placing the other one on top of his stomach, lightly sliding it across.

Reaper didn't have problems breathing anymore. He stopped breathing altogether.

His body was once again tense and stiff and he held in the air, trying his best not to let Soldier know he was awake.  It just might've also been connected to the fact he was so close. Touching him. Actually taking car-- _Stop it Gabe, s t o p._

The point being, he didn't fully realize what he had just done.

"Oh what the-- what the hell? He's not breathing!" The soldier sat back up again, quickly grabbing mortified Reaper by the shoulders and shaking him. "Oi! What's this supposed to be? Fucking stay with me Reyes! Rey-- _God dammit Gabe!"_

_Okay this was enough. This was more than enough. It's time to miraculously wake up, no matter how awkward facing him right now might be, it was even kind of amusing at first, but now-_

Jack's lips were over his. He was giving him a mouth to mouth.

He was desperately blowing the air in, while still holding him tightly.

This wasn't happening. It couldn't have been happening.

His lips felt hot and dry. With each new breathe-in they were locking in on him more and more, almost turning into a kiss.

_The fuck is this supposed to be, Sleeping Beauty?_

Reaper's eyes were wide open now, but he didn't have enough strength just yet to push the other away.

Well, um... It's not like it was _terribly_ unpleasant.

But either way, he managed to raise his hand and cling to Soldier's leather jacket, which was enough to make him pull away.

And oh, the horror, their eyes met, whilst still being about an inch away from each other. They were so close he could still feel Jack's breath on his face. Their foreheads were almost touching, his hand rested somewhere by his collarbone.

Why did this also feel familiar...?

Both men seemed to be completely paralyzed, looking like two awkward teens and not fully grown adults.

At least the tightness in his throat and chest was gone. Now Reaper just felt like he got hollowed out with a blunt tool.

Finally, Soldier moved away and quickly put his visor back on.

He didn't say anything.

"What the absolute _fuck_ were you doing just now, _hijo de puta_?"

It took him a while to reply.

"Trying to save your goddamn life, or whatever's left of it. You should be grateful I came back for you."

Reaper flinched in disgust.

"Oh of course, obviously, the great and honorable leader deserves all the gratitude, why, I should kiss your feet while I still have the chance to." He repressed the urge to spit on the ground. "You were the one who put me in this state in the first place."

"Not me. The others. I only shoot once."

"Fascinating. Truly. I'm so moved by your story. " Reaper rolled his eyes, sitting up straight, and looked down at his wounds. Captain America 2.0 actually did quite a good job patching him up.

"...Anyway." Jack continued, picking up his belongings and getting ready to leave. "Speaking of them, I should probably get back. I've wasted enough time here. We still have that payload to take care of and they must be wondering where I've gone." His voice became quieter and quieter as he spoke more, as if he was talking to himself.

He stood up, avoiding the other's gaze.

Reaper clenched his fists, staring at the ground angrily.

" _Why?_ Why would you even do that? You're my _enemy_. Nothing more. And you know it's either me or you. There's no point prolonging that. Besides, I can take care of myself."

"Sure as hell didn't look like it. And you still ain't that peachy." He grumbled, avoiding the question, then reached to his belt and threw Reaper one of his biotic field emitters.

He caught it involuntarily.

"You _do_ realize we've been trying to kill each other for decades now, right?" Reaper asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. You did. I never wanted to see you dead or turn into... this. You _were_ my friend once, Reyes. I'm only trying to do what is right."

"What you _think_ is right, Mr. Hero. Truth is, you're a naive fool who has no idea what's really happening around him."

Soldier sighed again and shook his head in disappointment. It wasn't the first time they were having this conversation.

"You won't change, will ya?"

"I won't." Reaper replied quietly, slowly putting his mask back on.

"...Pity. Soon enough, you might just run out of chances for redemption." He sounded as if saying that really pained him. Frozen for a split second, it seemed as if he wanted to add something more, but in the end, Soldier gave up and started walking out of the store.

"...Thanks."

He stopped.

But only for a few seconds before he left.

Reaper sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

Was what he said sincere? Was he really still that soft after all these years?

After all, this golden boy naivety was what led to all of this bullshit in the first place.

_I will not change. I can't change. Not until I dispose of those false, corrupt, backstabbing fuckers that ruined my life. **Our** lives._

And it was still a long way to go.

Better get moving.

He got up, still a little wobbly on his legs, and damn if he still felt a bit cold. Oh, but the heartbeat was definitely still there, alright. Stronger than ever.

"...Time to reap." Me mumbled to himself, leaving the building. It was high time to get some of those soul orbs.

And hopefully he wouldn't run into any more Overwatch agents.


End file.
